


A Leg Up

by kronette



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 08:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt was:  Rimmer/Lister. Post-Entangled, after hearing what the BEGGs had to say, Lister can't stop thinking about Rimmer's legs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Leg Up

Seriously. No, _seriously_. What did the BEGGs see in Rimmer? Yes, Rimmer was a nearly indestructible being, and Lister understood what that could mean to a race as long-lived as the BEGGs. But what the smeg was the deal about Rimmer's _legs_? 

He'd had the dubious honor of seeing Rimmer flit through the corridors in his white shorts presumably out jogging for most of their time on the Dwarf. It never occurred to Lister before, but on his way to get his morning coffee, Rimmer nearly always made a point to jog by him. Usually it was to snipe and berate him, but Rimmer kept up jogging in place, legs pumping, emphasizing the shift of his penis inside his shorts….

Lister sat up in bed with a strangled cry, smacking his head on the top of his bunk. He rubbed the sore spot as his mind whirled around uselessly. What the smeg? How had he known that? Had he actually been watching Rimmer without realizing? It wasn't something he wanted to think about, but as he tried to wipe it from his mind, he could see his gaze traveling down the muscled shoulders, the trim waist, and yes, to the side-to-side shift of Rimmer's crotch just above the pumping knees. 

Lister's forehead hit his mattress with a thump. He was so, so smegged. 

=-=-=-=

Now that he'd noticed that he'd noticed, he couldn't stop noticing: for a man staring at the wrong side of fifty, Rimmer was in damn good shape. For a man who slept through three alarms every morning, he was bright-eyed and scantily clad as he sped out of their quarters every morning, only to meet up with Lister when he stumbled to the vending machine for his coffee sometime around nine. 

He burned his tongue on his coffee as Rimmer bent over in front of him, displaying his ass in what Lister could only guess was a stretch. The slight groan that accompanied the short bounces as Rimmer touched his toes went straight to Lister's happy center. 

He gulped another too-hot mouthful of coffee as Rimmer sank down into a squat, his arms straight out in front of him, balanced perfectly on his toes. If Lister tried that, he'd be flat on his ass in two seconds. But Rimmer was making it look easy. He wasn't even sweating, though Lister could just see the thigh muscles flexing with the strain of the position. 

"Why'd you do that?" Lister heard himself asking around his burnt tongue. 

Rimmer stood up from his squat and stretched his right leg behind him, leaning forward on his left leg, giving Lister an almost unhindered look from his ankle to the top of his thigh. The only pieces of clothing in the way were Rimmer's sock and the really, really _really_ stretched tight shorts that were hugging the curves of his ass. 

"Do what?" Rimmer asked with a slight strain to his voice. 

It took Lister a moment to remember that he'd asked a question, then another few seconds to recall what it was. "Run. Work out. It's just us here, man. Why go through the trouble? No one cares what you look like." 

Rimmer turned slightly so that he was facing Lister. "It's not about looking good. It's about being healthy and giving my body what it needs." 

Lister's Happy Place was getting happier by the moment. At least the blanket was covering up his erection, though he couldn't hide his quickening breaths. "And what does your body need, Rimmer?" he asked in a low tone, the pull of arousal making him braver than he felt. His gaze flicked down Rimmer's twisted upper body to the line of his leg, not missing the new bulge that had appeared in the front of his shorts. 

Instead of cowering or covering up, Rimmer slid his right leg until he could balance on both feet, his hands low on his hips. If Lister didn't know better, he'd swear that Rimmer was framing his cock to draw his gaze. Even if he wasn't, with eight of Rimmer's fingers pointing at it, it was hard to miss. Rimmer's voice had a whole new dimension to it, rough and needy and playful. "Does it look like my body needs anything?" 

Lister licked his lips and thought for a split second on what he was about to do. With a shrug, he threw back the blanket and jumped down from the bed, landing in front of Rimmer. He met Rimmer's gaze squarely, smirking as he matched Rimmer's stance. "Yeah, it does actually," he answered finally, shifting his hips in a deliberate move to get Rimmer to glance down. It worked, and he watched a flush creep up Rimmer's neck as Rimmer's gaze returned to his eyes. 

"Nice long johns," Rimmer remarked, his voice even more strained. 

Lister's mouth quirked in a grin. "They're getting a bit tight," he said playfully as he reached down to adjust himself. "I think I'm outgrowing them. What do you think? Is it noticeable?" 

So _that_ was what desire looked like on Rimmer's face. It looked good on him. "They're definitely too small. You should –" Rimmer's bravado faltered. 

Caught up in the moment, caught up in Rimmer's heated gaze, Lister stepped closer and pitched his voice low. "I should take them off, yeah? Before I stretch them out. You wouldn't want to help me?" He left it a question, though there was no doubt that Rimmer was about to touch him. 

His instincts proved right as Rimmer's hand slowly reached toward his stomach. His instincts proved wrong as Rimmer's fist clenched in the front of his long johns and yanked him forward, their mouths meeting in an awkward, unbelievably hot kiss.


End file.
